


24 Hours

by Anti_Aphrodite



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, Light Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Sharing Clothes, Strangers to Lovers, Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29120250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anti_Aphrodite/pseuds/Anti_Aphrodite
Summary: "Dream didn’t see the waves swelling against the cliff faces.He didn’t taste the sea salt in the air, or notice the paths that were etched in his windshield by the rain.Music played silent notes in his mind. Time hung motionless in the wind.Life remained overlooked.That is, until the silhouette of a hitchhiker emerged out of the gray."24 hours. The sun rises and sets. Lives are changed.Dream had his life figured out, he had built a successful career and was climbing the corporate ladder. But, caught up in his ambition, he forgot what made life beautiful.He forgot about the vibrancy of a sunset and the endlessness of starry skies.He forgot about air scented like sea salt and the way water dances in light.He forgot about holding a loved one close, tasting adoration in their gaze.But that was before he met George: a nomad who aimed to experience every moment for all it’s worth, but hiding from a broken past.When fate crosses their paths, they find themselves living life how they never imagined. Worlds are shifted, memories made, and love born.Set along the coast of Oregon, Dream and George fall deeply in love with life, as well as each other.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. 7:00 A.M., April 29- Before.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody!! Welcome! This is my very first fic, so I'm a bit nervous for it. But I'm also very excited, I have so much planned for the story that will *hopefully* blow you away! Just a heads up, this first chapter has a lot of characterization in it, but don't worry, later chapters will have SO MUCH action. :) If you want to leave a comment at the end, feel free. I am open to critique, I would love to improve. But please refrain from being rude, the most useful criticism is kind, constructive criticism! That's all! Enjoy!

Before the 29th of April, Dream didn’t exist.

At least, not really.

He was just a ghost hosting a time travelling mind.

Vacant eyes perceived flashes of the present, but all was gauged in perspective of future aspirations.

There was no _now_.

Only the potential of what was to come.

Strategic maneuvers played out behind his eyes, and all he desired was that the world before him match what he had created within. To morph reality in his hands, to transform it into his imagined future.

In fact, his visions were so substantial that he often forgot the tangible, the real.

Dream was an addict drunk with ambition.

His drug of choice? Work.

So, it was no surprise when the first thing he did that morning was check work emails.

He didn’t notice the birds singing outside the slightly open window, or the incessant tap dancing of droplets on the roof. 

Instead, Dream rose quickly out of bed to his 7 o’clock alarm.

Sure, he was on vacation. But yes, he still had an alarm set for seven. The sun had risen an hour ago, so he actually had slept in a little. And frankly, a little is more than Dream preferred.

He marched into the kitchen of the Airbnb, pulling out his laptop and digging straight in. Of course the rambunctious intern Tommy was causing issues again, he would call and discuss that while he made his morning coffee. _Sigh._

There were emails about meetings, as to be anticipated. Useless bits of employee information that he already knew about. Nothing valuable. Nothing he had time for. 

Click, click. Delete. Delete.

But he found his mouse hovering over an unexpected name. An email from the head of the tech department at the main office?

_Clay “Dream”,_

_Wanted to send a congratulatory email on your exceptional work at the Seattle branch. I predict that the company will continue to expand there, largely thanks to your consistent pursuit of improvement. Keep up the great work, I am expecting great things from you. Will be in contact soon._

_Regards,_

_Jimmy Donaldson_

A grin tightened the edges of Dream’s cheeks. The head of the tech department expected great things from him? Was about damn time. He had been “expecting great things” from himself since he first applied for an internship with the company years ago.

And had never stopped _doing_ great things since.

There was nothing more exhilarating than proving to others, along with himself, what he was capable of. He thrived on it. Got off on it.

After all, he knew his potential. His potential to make history. To be the best.

It wasn’t that Dream was cocky. No. It was simply that visions of achievement existed as fire in his mind; it danced: bright, tempting and alive.

And he was willing to give every bit of his intellect to bring it roaring to life.

…

Dream made his way through his daily morning routine. Make coffee and take phone calls simultaneously. He had learned early on in his career that multitasking was often the best way to ensure efficiency.

Eat a healthy breakfast. He would be fueled to make the most out of every day that he could.

Brush his teeth. Wash his face. Shave. Style his hair.

Returning to the bedroom, he pulled up the Weather app on his phone. His starting point: Tillamook, Oregon, April 29. Rain off-and-on throughout the day with times of sunshine. High: 59°F. Destination: Coos Bay, Oregon, April 29. Forecast about the same.

Looking through his neatly packed suitcase, he decided on his old chartreuse hoodie and a pair of worn-out jeans. It wasn’t what he normally went for, but he didn’t need to dress up to sit alone in his car all day. This wasn’t the office.

Glancing in the mirror, Dream took in the sight of himself. Locks of hair encircled his face, a mirage of brown and gold rendering it impossible to tell which color was real and which was not. The way the hoodie, still pristine after all these years, accentuated his long torso and immense height.

And his eyes, a dark and burning green, contrasting with the sweatshirt’s much cheerier version of the same color. 

He remembered when he first bought the hoodie in Florida as a teen, his mother declared it hideous for how bold and different it was. But Dream didn’t mind. He liked bold and different. He preferred bold and different.

Then later, after his move to Houston, his trusted old hoodie was slowly replaced by business slacks, shined shoes and form-fitting suits. It was discarded to the back of his closet, yet he could never bear to rid himself of it.

Wearing now that same sweatshirt, Dream realized how far he’d come. Limitless time had been spent constructing himself into the type of man he’d always feverishly admired. He was industrious, successful and accomplished, yet still dreamt of so much more.

He couldn’t wait to see how high he could go.

But glancing at the clock, 7:37, it was now time to hit the road.

…

Black puddles on the 101 leapt fearfully out of the path of the sleek, gray Tesla. Music leaked into the air from the speakers as Dream drummed his fingers off-beat on the steering wheel, his ears open, but listening somewhere else.

Internally, Dream considered what Jimmy wanted to talk about. Although a raise would be acceptable, he would rather move up in the company and mold it into everything he believed it could be. And as much as he admired Jimmy, he hoped, admittedly, to someday take his job.

His mind drifted away to more direct issues at hand. For one, Tommy, the young intern they had taken in, was a great source of potential. That is, if he could learn to harness his abounding energy into something productive. Until he learned though, he would be a lot to handle.

Dream’s mind worked much like solving a puzzle, with the end goal always in sight. Pieces of the present only had value in that they could be used to construct the future. He could analyze their shape. Take in their size. Visualize their colors. And with that info, arrange and rearrange until his imagined masterpiece came to be.

But often the end result was so alive in his mind that he was unable to see the beauty displayed within the pieces, within each passing moment. 

Dream didn’t see the waves swelling against the cliff faces. 

He didn’t taste the sea salt in the air, or notice the paths that were etched in his windshield by the rain. 

Music played silent notes in his mind. Time hung motionless in the wind.

Life remained overlooked. 

That is, until the silhouette of a hitchhiker emerged out of the gray.

See, Dream didn’t exist.

At least, not really.

He was just a lifeless ghost carrying a mind existing in another time. 

Empty eyes observed the present before him, but only through the structured scope of the future.

He had no _now_.

But that was before.

And there’s always a before, isn’t there?

Before the butterfly flapped its wings, and before the hurricane happened a world away.

A moment before the seismic shift, before everything one thought they knew came crashing down around them.

Before 7:57 A.M. on a cool April morning along the Pacific Coast Highway.

Before Dream passed the hitchhiker.

Before he glanced at the clock and noticed he was ahead of schedule.

Before he realized how hard it was raining.

Before he knew he couldn’t leave the traveler along the side of the road in the rain.

Before he turned his car around.

Before the boy with the playful smile and mischievous brown eyes strolled his direction.

Before a word was spoken in a voice drenched with an English accent, “Hey.”

It took one look at George for Dream to know.

This was no longer before.


	2. 8:00 A.M., April 29- Spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spring is a time of new beginnings.

George shivered in the rain, his arm sticking out of the tightly drawn hoodie with a thumbs up.

It truly wasn’t that cold, but with being soaked and possessing a very thin frame, he was freezing.

Much to his relief, he soon heard the approaching sound of a car, and it seemed to be slowing down. Peering up through the onslaught of rain, he caught sight of a gray Tesla pulling over on the other side. He was pretty certain he had seen the vehicle pass him a minute before, so he picked up his bag and scampered across the wet concrete.

Walking over to the passenger side, the driver rolled the window down to talk. George leaned against the car, speaking in a voice he hoped communicated his gratitude, “Hey.” 

However, he was immediately caught off guard by what he saw. For one, even sitting down it was apparent the driver was extremely tall, his long jean-clad legs stretching down to the brake pedal. Medium-blonde tresses cascaded around his head, and he wore a vibrantly colored sweatshirt that George wasn’t entirely sure was green or yellow.

“Hi,” the man said coolly. George took in his voice-- the sound tasting like cherry ice cream. The one word welcomed George in, imbuing him with a sense of safety and trustworthiness. “Would you like a ride?”

George responded with a smile, “I’d love that, this rain sucks. Where should I put my stuff?”

“You can just put it in the back,” the man gestured with his head, golden waves swaying slightly with the movement.

George opened the door to the backseat and carefully placed his drenched backpack on the floor, not wanting to dampen the stranger’s nice leather seats, and climbed into the passenger side.

“I’m George.”

The stranger nodded his head subtly, as if considering what to say. “I’m… well my name’s Clay, but I go by Dream sometimes.” he said carefully.

“Which one should I call you?”

“I guess whichever one you prefer, I mean, you don’t really know me, so I don’t care.”

“Clay…” George murmured as the car slowly turned back around onto the highway. “Or Dream… I think I like Dream better. It’s more unique, and interesting.”

Dream didn’t respond, just nodded.

George used the momentarily lull in conversation to take in his surroundings. Outside, rain droplets slithered down the glass over a canvas of gray sky. Ghostly figures of the dark forest shift through the trails left by the rain, blanketing the shadowy mountains in mystery. Inside, music plays softly from the radio, too quiet for George to be able to identify. Which was unfortunate, because glancing at Dream, George finds himself intrigued and wanting to know more.

Admittedly, Dream was very attractive, but George’s main motivation lay in his own insatiable curiosity. After all, who the hell goes by “Dream?” What does he do for a living to be able to afford this nice car? Where is he from, where is he going?

Glancing over, he could see Dream was deeply lost in thought, staring intently at the road ahead, a muscle tightening in his jaw as his brain worked.

What was he thinking about?

Dream was a question begging to be asked.

But just as George was about to plunge into the enigma and refresh the conversation, Dream spoke up.

“So, where are you heading? What’s the destination?”

George grinned, for he had no real answer. He felt Dream’s eyes on him, and meeting his gaze, shrugs nonchalantly. “Wherever life takes me, I suppose.”

Dream’s gaze narrows. “Oh so you’re trying to be cryptic and mysterious. Got it.”

In response, George lets out a small laugh. “Not really, it’s just the truth. I just kinda go wherever life takes me next. I don’t have anywhere specific to go today, if that is what you are asking. You can let me off wherever and whenever, I don’t really care.”

A glance in George’s direction with a raised eyebrow, Dream appears clearly uncomfortable with his answer. 

Or unsatisfied with the lack of one.

Settling into silence, they continue on.

George returns to watching the passing scenery outside the window. Resting his forehead on the cool glass, he watches as the mountains pass, an occasional snapshot of ocean appearing between sharp-faced cliffs.

But then he starts to shiver.

Leaning away from the glass, he pulls his hoodie tight around him. The heat of the car was helping, but he was still chilled from his saturated attire.

Dream seems to notice, and despite the uneasy atmosphere, brings it up.

“Are you cold?”

“Yeah, a bit. The rain soaked me.”

“Well if you have another hoodie you can grab it from your stuff and put it on.”

George feels his chest tighten and anxiety press against his lungs. The old, familiar pain sharpens with each breath and he grits his teeth against the memories.

“ _ No _ .” he snaps sternly.

Grabbing the cuffs of his sleeves, he yanks them further over his hands.

“Uh okay, if you’d rather be cold. I just thought I’d offer a solution.”

George swallows, feeling guilty for making Dream more uncomfortable. Dream had, after all, kindly offered a ride to a stranger on the side of the road.

But the ache in his chest burns more feverishly, the fire biting at his throat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound harsh. Do you, uh, allow smoking in your car?”

Dream glances at him, an unreadable expression on his face. “No I don’t. Do you smoke?”

“No, not really.”

“Then why do you ask? Does my car smell like it or something?”

“No, no! Not at all.”

Dream’s gaze again lands on him, confusion scrawled across his features.

“I just-- never mind, forget it, sorry.” George mumbles.

They return to strained silence, the tension in the air insignificant compared to the feeling at the pit of George’s stomach.

...

The rain starts to subside, and George, still harboring guilt, tries to spark up conversation. Hopefully he can make this a little less awkward.

“I’m glad the rain is stopping, it was miserable out there. If I’d been smart, I would have gotten an umbrella. It’s the Pacific Northwest after all, it rains all the time, I definitely need an umbrella.”

Strangely, Dream snorts at that.

“You clearly aren’t from around here if you say that.”

A mischievous smile spreads across George’s features, sarcasm oozing from his tone, “Oh yeah, cause my accent doesn’t give that away.”

Dream turns his direction with a look of surprise, before bursting out laughing, relinquishing the strange atmosphere in the car. “Okay well  _ yeah  _ that too. But I meant that if you are from the Northwest you don't usually use an umbrella.”

“What? Why? If it’s so rainy why wouldn’t you use an umbrella? That’s just dumb.”

“Hell if I know. I just know that when I first moved here I learned really quick that if you see someone using an umbrella, they are probably a tourist or something. I think everyone living here is just so used to the rain that they don’t use one. They just use their hoods or a hat.”

George scoffs. “That’s just stupid.”

Dream again laughs.

George smiles, liking the fact that Dream enjoys his sarcasm. “So Dream, you said you live in this area? Where exactly?”

“I work in Seattle.”

“What are you doing here in Oregon then?”

“My family and I go on vacation in Malibu every spring. It’s the least busy time of year there so it’s the best way to avoid the crowds. Usually I just take I-5 because that’s the most efficient route and I can make it in a day or two. But my mom complained that I am,” he clears his throat, _ “‘always in a rush and I should take some time off to explore _ .’” Dream says, his tone mocking. He then sighs, “Whatever the hell that means.”

George looks at him. “What do you mean ‘whatever the hell that means?’ It means chill out for a few days and explore the West Coast! Have you done anything fun?”

Dream tightens his lips. “It seems like a waste of time to me. I could be at work instead of having all these extra, pointless hours to sit around at my Airbnb every night.”

“Wait, you’re serious? You took extra days off and are driving through one of the most beautiful areas of the U.S., and you haven’t done anything?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that. I have been brainstorming some ideas to improve work efficiency but…”

George interrupts him. “Ok well let’s change that. What can we do to get you out of your head and actually doing something enjoyable?” He pulls out his phone and checks the weather. “It’s going to be clear for the next few hours here.” Pulling up Google, he searches _ things to do near Pacific City, Oregon _ .

“Uh I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why not Dream? Would you rather waste away your precious time at the Airbnb?”

“No but--”

George’s eyes light up and a grin spreads through his cheeks. “Then how about we go whale watching?”

“ _ What?!” _

“You know fun doesn’t come to you, right? You have to seek it out. You’ve got nothing to do, I’ve got nowhere to be, so really what’s there to lose?”

Dream goes quiet, considering. “Okay that’s true but I still don’t see the point.”

“Does there have to be a point? Just try it and if you don’t like it, you never have to do it again. But for  _ fucks sake  _ at least  _ try _ it!”

Dream sighs, conceding, “You know what? Fine.”

…

Pulled over at a forested cafe, George watches Dream type in the phone number for a whale watching company in Depoe Bay.

Dream’s eyebrows are drawn in, his forehead crinkled with thought as he listens to the sound of the ringing line. Bits of sunlight seep through clouds over the forest, battling with smatterings of rain for dominance in the sky. The changing light shimmers across Dream’s shoulders, dancing with the vibrance of his hoodie.

But clouds remain in his eyes.

The line is picked up and Dream sighs, “Hi. Yes, I was wondering if you have any openings for the whale watching today? Uh huh. For two people, both adults. Mmhm.”

George closes his eyes briefly, immersed in the sound of Dream’s voice. There was something entirely soothing about it, and despite barely knowing him, George felt reliability emanating from each inflection. He reopens his eyes, observing Dream as he talks.

“Sorry what time? 10? I believe we can do that but let me double check. One moment please.” Dream turns to George, who startles, realizing he had been staring.

“George, how far is Depoe Bay from here? We can make it by 10:00 right?”

George quickly opens Google Maps, fingers moving deftly across the screen. “Depoe Bay’s only half an hour from here and it’s only nine o’clock. I think we’re good.”

“Okay, we’ll take the 10 o’clock then. Yeah, under the name Clay. Okay, thank you. Uh huh, have a good day.”

Dream hangs up the phone and stares out the front of the car. The large pines stretch out their heavy branches, protectively arching over the parking lot. Silence empties into the space, interrupted only by the uneven pattering of raindrops.

Dream turns and meets his gaze. “This better be worth my time, George.”

George quirks an eyebrow and smiles. “Only one way to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOD I'm so excited for the different things I have planned in the coming chapters! If you've made it this far, know that is means the world that you would take the time to read my writing, thank you SO much. I hope you've enjoyed it so far <3

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my God thank you for reading Chapter One of 24 hours! It means the world that you are here :) A few quick notes. This fic is structured so that it has 24 chapters, each one encapsulating one hour, totaling 24 hours. Also, you can find me on Twitter @AntiAphrodite_ That will be my place to provide updates on the fics, behind-the-scenes, and rant about writing and things! I'd love to make more mcyt friends there, so feel free to dm me. Enjoy 24 Hours!


End file.
